


Dangers of a Fuzzy Brain

by 221bMoonunit



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-03
Updated: 2015-04-03
Packaged: 2018-03-21 02:53:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3674724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/221bMoonunit/pseuds/221bMoonunit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock wants Molly to take care of him, but sadly the pain pills he has taken has made his brain quite fuzzy…Can this be a good thing or something horribly wrong?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dangers of a Fuzzy Brain

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, this story doesn’t really have a plot. Sorry, I am working on some stories that do, honest!
> 
> Until then enjoy this little fun fluffy story…
> 
> Also, thank you so much for the goodness you have shown me with my other stories...
> 
> And um, friendly warning…You just might end up with a silly nursery rhyme in your head…
> 
> Yeah, I guess I should say ‘sorry’ except that I’m not.
> 
> Here’s an important note that we all know quite well…As always I don’t own any of Sherlock…None what so ever…None of the characters…NOTHING! So with that thought I will whip away a tear and then smile as I think of BC in nothing but a bedsheet…

~*~PART 1~*~

_The good Watson had at the time deserted me for a wife, the only selfish action which I can recall in our association. I was alone._

-The Blanched Soldier by Arthur Conan Doyle

_I think I stood stunned for some moments._

_-_ The Illusterious Client by Arthur Conan Doyle

~*~SHERLOCK~*~

“Sherlock!” Molly Hooper gasped as she opened her front door. Truly surprised and to be quite honest a bit horrified.

She wasn’t horrified that Sherlock was at her door. No. It was the sight before her…and she was greatly surprised that Sherlock Holmes had actually _knocked_ on her door, seeing for years now he simply picked her lock and entered her flat as if he owned the place. Then sometime later she’d simply gave him an extra key, yet he’d still love to pick the lock. Show off his skills…If her flat had a balcony or wasn’t up on the top floor, he’d probably be coming through her window constantly…

Then when Sherlock was in her flat he’d head straight towards her kitchen and oddly enough go through her fridge and cupboards. If she had some lovely tea and some of her homemade biscuits…He would happily take her biscuits and her tea…

And then there was the times she’d bake a loaf of banana nut bread, and she’d let it cool upon the counter. Without saying a word, Sherlock would show up take the bread and Molly would end up staring at her locked bedroom door…

To be perfectly honest, Molly was still a little bitter about not having a single slice of **_her_** banana nut bread. Sadly, that hadn’t been the first time nor would it even be the last time. Lately, Molly had taken to calling John on the days she knew she was going be baking her favorite bread to see if he knew where Sherlock was and what he was doing in hopes that she’d end up eating some of her banana nut bread…It had become her goal in life. Make and eat **_her_** bread without Sherlock taking it from her and eating the whole sodding thing! Blast him!

Yet, even calling John didn’t seem to help her what-so-ever…For it was as if Sherlock had developed an odd new superpower that told him when she was going to be making it. It was uncanny really…

His skill at knowing was truly a bit unnerving…but what could she do? Really, what? It was Sherlock after all…She may be _his_ pathologist but she always thought of Sherlock as _hers_ …Her Sherlock. No matter how annoying or…or wonderful he could sometimes be.

Sherlock Holmes was the man that she loved and cared greatly about. Molly had helped him die; just to help him live and escape a madman…She would do anything for him… _ANYTHING_ …Though she would like it if he didn’t eat the whole loaf of banana nut bread! Maybe he could share? Seriously, was that too much to ask?

Hell, if he turned to her and he wanted to experiment on her body with his, she’d shout halleluiah! Though that has never once happened. Sadly. If he simply wanted a single body part from the morgue then she was the girl to talk too but…just once let her eat some of her own bread, damn it all!

Not that the mental rant was really necessary…No, not tonight.

Tonight, for the first time in years the great consulting detective had actually knocked upon her door and she knew it wasn’t in hopes of stealing her banana nut bread…Nope.

Banana Nut Bread had nothing to do with her gasping Sherlock’s name with quite a lot of horror and worry.

No, the knock was simply a surprise after she knew it was her Sherlock…

Sherlock stood there before her supported by crutches. His left foot was swathed in black fabric and metal like cast…All the way down to his cute bare toes all the way up to his knee…

He looked exhausted and his beautiful face was heavily bruised with sore looking scratches. Molly noticed that he had a white bag that declared itself to be from a pharmacy nearby.  

“Ah! Molly! You will be quite happy and thrilled to know that I have chosen **_you_** to take care of me!” Sherlock declared nobly as if he was giving her a great honor.

“Oh, goodness, Sherlock what happened?” Molly asked, helping him into her flat. It was only when he winced as she placed an arm around him that she realizes that he just might have a cracked rib or two. Molly tenderly and carefully helped him take off his lovely Belstaff and with even greater care lead him to her bedroom…Looked as if she was sleeping on her sofa again tonight.

Sherlock smiled down at her, “John and I were in a fight with a few men and it was delightful! Really, great fun until I lost my footing and found myself rolling down a steep hill…I will be fine and so will John.”

“John’s hurt too? He didn’t roll down the hill after you did he?” Molly asked with wide-eyes as she helped him onto her bed.

“No…He didn’t roll down the bloody, stupid hill! He’s fine! John simply hurt his arm and a knife scraped his palm…As well as a very impressive black eye but he’d good. Though the way Mary acted, one would have thought he was at death’s door…The way she carried on…”

Molly noticed a flash of some deep emotion enter his beautiful and normally sharp, cold eyes as he said this. Envy, perhaps? For his dear friend had someone to take care of him and to comfort him…To be there and at the end of the day…Mary would always be there for John. Loving him. Accepting him. Worrying about him and to give him comfort when it was needed…

Whereas Sherlock at the end of the day was alone…With his mind palace for company…But mostly alone.

“Anyway, Mary should be use to violence and its effects.” Sherlock continued, his words starting to sound a bit slurred. “So I thought about it and decided to have you take care of me.”

“Was Mrs. Hudson not home?” Molly asked him softly, helping him get comfortable upon her bed and setting the pharmacy bag upon her end table. She’d focus on that in a moment. She didn’t mind that Sherlock came to her, she was simply surprised. For she thought that Mrs. Hudson would have secretly enjoyed mothering him…Reminding him that she was not his mother or his servant as she waited on him hand and foot…

Sherlock looked briefly confused at this as he blinked up at her…There now seemed to be something odd about how he was looking at her…“I don’t know if she is home or not. What do I care? I want **_you_** to take care of me! Only…only you…”

“Oh…” Molly breathed, strangely touched, “Okay…”

“Hey, did you know that John had a so-called childhood friend named, ‘Tadpole’? Seriously, Molly, _Tadpole!_ Percy ‘Tadpole’ Phelps…John use to hit him over the shins with a wicket! He and the other lads…He emailed John to invite me over to do a case for him…John claimed that as a child Tadpole had been brilliant but I didn’t see any brilliance…Just stupidity! It was that case that had the fight and…and…” Sherlock started to ramble in fast sentences. “My…My head is fuzzy, now…Wow…Those pills I took a little bit ago really have…Um…Quite a kick…Fuzzy brain…Fuzzy Wuzzy was a bear! Fuzzy Wuzzy had no hair! Did someone rob him of his hair? Why the bloody hell does a bear named Fuzzy have no hair! Why?! What happened to his hair, Molly?!”

“I…I honestly don’t know.” Molly informed him before asking, “So…um…When did you take that pill?”

“I should take up the case! Fuzzy Wuzzy and the case of the missing hair! Oh, what did you ask? Right! When did I take that blasted pill…as I stated quite clearly I am sure…I took it just a little bit ago. It was hurting and annoying me greatly so…I took one. John tattled on me, Molly, and told the hospital we went to that I’m a recovering drug addict and he told them that I shouldn’t have anything…um…anything…”

“Addictive?” Molly asked, in hopes to help him.

“Yes! That! Addictive! I don’t think I should take any more for it really makes my head…um…fuzzy and I don’t like that! Fuzzy…Fuzzy Wuzzy—“Sherlock began to repeat.

“Sherlock…” Molly attempted to cut him off but failed.

“Was a bear…Molly, I don’t like being fuzzy. Really I don’t. It’s not right. My brain shouldn’t be…this! All fuzzy and…really I don’t like it…Unlike that fuzzy bear, I do have hair…Tell me, do you like my hair?”

“Yes, Sherlock, I do like your hair.” Molly said softly and with great amusement. She was seriously trying not to laugh. She had never once witnessed Sherlock like this and she found him to be quite charming…And he wasn’t even trying to be!

Sherlock nodded, looking very satisfied, “Good…Good…I like you…”

Molly blinked down at him.

“You mean you like my hair, don’t you?” She found herself asking, reaching up with a hand to touch the hair in question.

“No.” Sherlock stated simply. “Well, sure your hair _is_ nice…Most days, anyway. Today isn’t one of them. Your hair could really use a good brushing…But I wasn’t talking about your hair, I was talking about you… _I really like **you**_.”

“Oh! Well, I like you too, Sherlock…” Molly responded with great honesty not really caring that she was having a bad hair day.

“I know…” Sherlock informed her knowingly as he closed his eyes…Molly took a soft warm blanket and covered him with it. As she did so, he continued, “You _love_ me.”

Molly froze and swallowed hard, it took her a moment to find her voice. “Don’t…Don’t be cruel, Sherlock.”

He opened his normally sharp eyes that seemed slightly dulled by the pain or the pills. “I’m not, just stating a steadfast unchangeable fact. **You love me** …I know you do.” His eyelids closed once more and this time his last words were incredibly soft… “I also know that I love you back. Tried not to but…Now that I know that I can’t change it, why should I fight…Really why?”

No matter how soft those words were spoken Molly still heard them…

Feeling stunned, she stared down at him.

She wondered if he would still claim to love her when his brain was no longer fuzzy. Probably not. Sadly…

Still it was lovely to hear, even if he didn’t mean it the way her heart and soul yearned for him to mean it…He probably meant he loved her as a good loyal friend or something…One that he’d never get into a deeper relationship with.

Not that it mattered. No. She would cherish and treasure those dear rare words. Molly leaned down and tenderly pressed her lips to his forehead.

“I’ll take care of you as long as you wish me too.” She promised softly knowing that was an easy promise to keep.

With his eyes closed he sighed in contentment, a lovely smile graced his perfect lips.

Molly slowly backed out of her bedroom and headed towards her kitchen…She had some banana nut bread to bake…Just for him. For once she wouldn’t even mind not getting a slice.

Oddly enough later, he did share a couple of slices with her and when she teased him about whether or not he was going to investigate why Fuzzy Wuzzy had no hair…

Well, he informed her that he had no desire to investigate such silliness…But Sherlock did inform her once more that he loved her…this time without the aid of those silly pain pills.

He took her into his arms and kissed her…Lovingly and quite passionately…As he did so, Molly could have sworn her own brain went fuzzy and to be perfectly honest, she really didn’t mind all that much!

~*~THE END~*~

**Author's Note:**

> Fun little side note: Percy ‘Tadpole’ Phelps is from the great Arthur Conan Doyle’s story ‘The Naval Treaty’…It is indeed true that Watson once said that he and the other children use to chivy him about the playground and hit him over the shins with a wicket…For some reason I told myself if I ever played with a Sherlock story I’d have Percy in one of my stories…And look, here he is spoken of!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the story and have a lovely day…


End file.
